


'cause in your heart it's loud

by Anonymous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Come on—" Stiles says, but his voice cracks somewhere in the middle of it; he's holding on to Derek's hips with desperate, greedy fingers, slipping every so often, trying to prop himself up on his elbows to get some leverage.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Derek rides Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'cause in your heart it's loud

"Come _on—"_ Stiles says, but his voice cracks somewhere in the middle of it; he's holding on to Derek's hips with desperate, greedy fingers, slipping every so often, trying to prop himself up on his elbows to get some leverage. Derek just raises an eyebrow at him, and Stiles groans. "No, no, not the sassy eyebrows," he says—moans, more like—and Derek cuts him off from saying any more with a slow, smooth roll of his hips, bracing his hands on Stiles' shoulders.

They've been doing this for long enough now that he can see the tells in Stiles' face. It's nothing like the first time, clutching at each other's shoulders, awkward grips and unsubtle love marks left the next day on Stiles' collarbone. Now Derek can see it in every movement Stiles makes, the way he grabs at Derek's hips and thighs, the staccato stutter of his heartbeat, the way he tips his head back and bares his throat. He groans again, low and long. " _Derek_ ," he says.

" _Stiles,_ " Derek says back. He stops moving and Stiles makes a betrayed noise. "Stop fucking complaining," Derek says, "sit back, and enjoy the ride." He realizes too late his mistake, because Stiles smirks.

"The ride, huh?" he says, wiggling his eyebrows. "Looks like I'm rubbing off on you." He pauses for a moment, as if to think about his own unintentional pun, and then lies back down and just collapses into full body laughter. Derek has to hide the quirk of his mouth by moving over him, kissing the bow of his lips, swallowing up his mirth. He's warm, lean underneath Derek; his arms are wiry and his shoulders broad. Derek moves his hands over Stiles' body, stopping occasionally to linger over a sensitive spot. Stiles tries to shift.

"You don't appreciate anything I do for you," Derek says, casual, conversational, in a way that's guaranteed to drive Stiles crazy. He leans back and starts to move again, riding Stiles in a smooth, fluid rhythm, and Stiles' eyes fly open. He struggles to his elbows, but Derek pushes him back down gently. The noises Stiles is making, half-aborted moans, the ways his eyes are fluttering, the slick noises of his cock moving in and out of Derek, the _smell_ of sex in the air, so thick it almost stinks—

Derek bites down on his bottom lip, and Stiles' eyes fly to his mouth. "Come on," Stiles says, almost pleading. "Can I, can I fuck you now? You're so fucking—like that, up there, you're so _pretty_ , Derek—fuck—" and then, as Derek hits a particularly good rhythm, " _fuck_ —d'you know how good you look?"

He keeps asking, keeps asking, but Derek's still going easy, light. He wants to watch Stiles fall apart for a while. He wants to watch Stiles' mouth turn red from how much he bites it, wants to watch Stiles clutch at the sheets, at Derek's hips, leaving bruises that fade a moment later. His skin is so luminous in the moonlight.

Stiles is almost slurring now, eyes lidded from the pleasure. Derek grins at him, and Stiles grins back; he says, "Will you let me come now, baby?"

Derek exhales through his nose, a laugh. "If you're really good," he says, low, "I might let you watch me come." He starts jerking himself off, and Stiles comes out of his stupor.

" _Oh_ ," he says. "That is not fair, that is—that is dirty pool, okay." But he leaves his hands where they are, and Derek feels a small spark of warmth in his chest for it. He starts going faster, jerking himself off to the same rhythm, and Stiles' hips try to buck up. His eyes close again. He's talking as if he doesn't realize he's doing it, and most of the time he doesn't—he gets embarrassed, later, if Derek says something, as if it's something to be ashamed of. Derek hasn't told him yet that it's not, partly out of a strong aversion to discussing feelings at all and partly because he can't decide which he likes better, Stiles' filthy sex mouth or the way he flushes afterward, turns red right down to his chest.

From the way he's going, he'll come soon, and he thinks Stiles might be right after him; he slows down a little bit, and Stiles scrabbles at the sheets for purchase. He looks at Derek in betrayal.

"Next time," Derek says, a promise, "I'll get you a cock ring." Stiles moans wordlessly, twisting against the sheets. He's been biting his lip, but Derek wants to hear him. "I'll get you a cock ring and I'll get you hard and snap it on you and suck your cock until you're begging me. And then I'll ride you until I come and I'll ride you after, and all the while I'll listen to you beg. Tell me how bad you want that." He barely knows what he's saying at this point either; he just wants to see Stiles' eyes fly open, eyelashes long against the paleness of his skin. Just wants to see Stiles' eyes bright with arousal. Just wants to see how much Stiles wants him. It shocks the breath out of him every time.

"I won't tell you anything until you let me _come_ , you fucking fuck," Stiles says. He can barely thrust up, but he's trying anyway. He catches Derek's eye and makes a face at him, and it almost startles Derek into laughter.

"I think of the two of us," Derek says, voice dry, "you're the fuck. Seeing how you're doing the fucking and all." Stiles bares his teeth at him.

"That's a fucking _lie_ and you know it." Then he snickers. "Heh. A fucking lie."

Derek rolls his eyes. He starts moving again, fast, and Stiles' eyes widen. He chokes on his own breath. Derek pulls on his cock a couple of times, long and tight, and comes all over Stiles' chest. Stiles lets a breath out between his teeth, tight. He's trying not to be too loud.

"Make _noise_ ," Derek says, goaded by frustration into saying what he wants straight out, and Stiles' eyes fly, startled, to his face. Derek keeps the rhythm of his hips fast and tight, and Stiles moans now, not showy but natural, strong. A moment later, his entire body tightens and seizes, and he comes on an exhale.

Derek moves off him slowly. His legs feel like jelly, but he's fine a moment later; he can't say the same for Stiles, who's spread out on the bed like he might never get up again, loose and limber and fucked out. He pulls the condom off Stiles' cock gently, throws it away and grabs a wet towel, using it to clean Stiles' chest off. Stiles pulls him onto the bed. He seems to have recovered enough to wrap himself around Derek, burying his nose into the crook between Derek's shoulder and neck.

"Mmgh," he says inarticulately.

"What?" Derek says. He's pretty sure that wasn't actually a word, but one never knows with Stiles.

"Nothing," comes a muffled voice from Derek's shoulder. "Just—" He pulls his head back to look at Derek, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. "When you said you wanted to celebrate my new job—"

Derek rolls his eyes but he can't stop one corner of his mouth from quirking up. Stiles pokes at it idly. "You're cute," he says. If Derek rolls his eyes any further, they're going to fall out of his head; but Stiles is undeterred.

They're silent for a little while longer; Derek thinks he must have done a good job, because most of the time Stiles is energized by sex.  It's only when he's really fucked out that he's like this, limp and cuddly in Derek's arms, chest rising and falling with his breath. Just when he thinks Stiles has fallen asleep, a voice comes from the area around his shoulder again.

"So, cock rings, huh?"

Derek groans.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "razorblade" by the strokes, which was playing in my head the entire time i wrote this.
> 
> written because of this [thing](http://jentnova.tumblr.com/post/42156450891/my-kingdom-for-porn-where-derek-takes-stiles-apart) on tumblr.
> 
> i swear i am not that person who only writes things because i see random posts on tumblr. i have all these plotty ideas. but none of them come out right. also, i like writing porn. porn is fun.


End file.
